


You Spike My Blood

by transfixeddream



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transfixeddream/pseuds/transfixeddream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared shouldn't be in this part of town, Jared shouldn't be paying for it, Jared shouldn't be putting his life on the line. Then again, Jared shouldn't be doing a lot of things.</p><p>Also posted <a href="http://transfixeddream.livejournal.com/109056.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Spike My Blood

L.A. is a different world when the sun goes down. Jared's been around long enough to know that, to feel the way the mood changes as the night draws in, as darkness bleeds through the light. There are more people on the sidewalks, some with nowhere to go, leaning against the side of buildings and smoking, watching the glittering dresses and the tight pants with hard eyes. They never stop watching.

He's away from all that tonight, trading in the glow of the lights for the blackness of an alley. It's nearly impossible to see, eyes just making out the ground in front of him, but he doesn't dare use the glow from his phone to help him. Jared's hands are beginning to sweat. He rubs them against the pockets of his jeans and takes a breath, breathes it back shakily into the night air.

Jared's not sure how long this thing has been going on; people know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows another guy, who--for the right price--knows this other guy. He found out about it early, barely a week after he came here, heard the whispers of untold pleasures and laughed it off, the idea disappearing from his mind just as quickly as it had come. Back when he had dreams of making it big, his future planned out in its entirety, before reality set in.

It's funny how much this city can change a person in a year, until you're unrecognizable even to yourself.

There's a slight breeze in the air that tends to come and go this time of the year, and he tugs the collar of his jacket tighter to his neck, for reasons greater than the wind. Jared recognizes the path from what the guy told him, knows he's nearly there.

Behind him, he can hear the noise of the city, the wail of sirens as the police cars race through, but Jared feels a country's length away from it all, isolated from the streets and swallowed up by the night. It feels both horrifying and electrifying, and he attempts to will away the rush of adrenaline that races through him, the way anxiety lights up his nerves as his eyes spot the run-down two storey place just in front of him.

Everything he knows tells him this is a bad idea; he should turn around now, should forget he even knows his way around this part of town, erase the entire idea from his mind. His momma's voice is ringing in his head, telling him not to be such a stupid ass, and so he gets rid of that thought instead; he really doesn't want to be thinking of his momma in a place like this. He feels the solid line pressing against the pocket of his jacket and finds reassurance in it, enough to walk up to the door and step inside without a second thought.

It's brighter in here than the alley, which isn't saying much; there are tall white candles uneven in height serving as the only light source, molten wax dribbling down the sides and freezing there. Smell overwhelms Jared's nostrils, the scent of sex and something else filling his lungs. He realizes with sudden clarity just what it is, the sickeningly heavy waft of it hanging in the air and making his heart race. Fuck, he's doing this.

There are half a dozen people in the room, and they all instantly shift and lock their gazes on Jared. His skin feels tight under their scrutiny, and he knows their exact thoughts, faces not even trying to hide their hunger. Jared resists the urge to pull the collar of his jacket tight around his neck, and catches the eye of a thin blonde in the center of the room. She's wearing a tiny, tight shirt that looks near impossible to get into, but far too easy to remove. Her eyes flicker in the dark like the flames of the candles, a startling blue glint to them as her lips curl into a smirk.

"Can I help you?" she asks, voice low and suggestive, even as Jared's pulling out his wallet. Jared swallows hard and steps away from the door and towards her.

He thumbs through the bills and pulls out more than he can honestly afford at the moment. He bites his lip and holds the bundle of cash out to her, looks her directly in the eye and says, "I want the best you've got."

She smiles then, purely predatory and wide enough that Jared can get a glint of her fangs, and she nods. "You have a preference?"

Jared shakes his head, says, "Just want the best."

Pursing her lips, the girl nods once more and takes his money. "Follow me."

She leads him out of the room and into a larger one, with sparsely placed candles lighting bodies along the edges of the room. Squirming bodies, the heady groans and hisses invading the quiet and making themselves known. Jared's eye catches on a guy, hands behind his back, body shiny with sweat and chest heaving, small cuts over him like notches in a bed post. There's a red head with her fingers digging in his thighs, sliding her tongue across a slit of crimson red and the guy groans like it's the best thing he's ever felt in his life, like he can't get enough. He's hard, cock pressed between the girl's cleavage and he's keening, writhing on his chair, black hair stuck to his head.

The guy looks up then, eyes shiny and dilated, mouth parted in a gasp, and Jared avoids his gaze and jerks his head around to look over his guide's head. She turns and starts to climb the stairs, the boards creaking with each step she takes. Jared follows her, feels the give of the wood as he puts his weight on them. He's not entirely sure one won't snap in half before he makes it up to the top, but his mind keeps drifting away from that to try and put a body to their best: long legs and sweet, tight lips; large hands and an even larger mouth.

But when the girl leads him into a room--small, barely room enough for the king size bed that takes up the majority of the space--Jared's eyes catch sight of the figure lounging on the bed, the sole candle in the room lighting up his face with an eerie glow, and he swallows in response. Not quite what he imagined--more like something in between.

He doesn't look up at Jared, keeps his eyes closed and his hand sitting at the base of his neck, and Jared drinks him in. Legs long and spread open, shirt riding up to show a sliver of smooth, pale skin. Lips full and dark, almost bloodlike red that show the only sign that he's heard them come in: the corner twisted upwards. Freckles that pop in the soft light of the flame, scattered across the bridge of his nose. His hair's done up in loose spikes, casual style and dark brown. Jared digs his fingers into his palm. The guy looks too good, almost inhuman in a way.

Then again, Jared thinks, he _is_.

"Jensen," and Jared startles, suddenly remembering the girl is still here with them. Her voice is barely a whisper, but it still rings loud in Jared's ears. "You have a customer."

Jensen's eyes shoot open at that, and he sits up on the bed, legs sliding a little further apart still. His eyes catch Jared's, deep green between thick lashes, and Jared feels like he's frozen in place, feet glued to the floor. He's distantly aware of the girl leaving his side then and exiting the room, leaving the two of them alone. Jensen's lips shift into a long, slow smirk and it somehow breaks the spell he put on Jared; Jared takes a step into the room and shuts the door.

There's only quiet in the room then, clear silence between them and Jared wonders if the faint moans are coming from downstairs, or if his mind's playing tricks on him.

"Don't think I caught your name."

Jensen's voice is dark and sounds whiskey rough, his eyes bisecting Jared in half as he studies him. It's a slow sentence, deliberate, and Jared just shakes his head and manages, "Didn't give it."

That guy's voice rings in his head. _Rule number one: Don't give your name--don't say anything that could let them identify you._

Jensen's eyebrow raises at that, but he says nothing, lets his smirk shrink a little instead. He gets up from the bed, rising tall--not as tall as he is, Jared notes absent-mindedly--and practically glides over to where Jared's standing, stalking him with a wide pace and he's gonna kill him, that's all. Rip his throat out and suck up all the blood that comes from it, that already too-red mouth dripping in Jared's blood.

Jared's done enough shit in this city to know this is above everything else, that he's way in over his head. He takes a step towards Jensen, however, and meets him somewhere in the middle. Jensen glances up at him, eyes shadowed from the darkness, and Jared raises a shaky hand up and presses the tips of his fingers to the bone of Jensen's cheek, a chill running deep through him when they touch only coldness.

It's not like he isn't aware of exactly what Jensen is, of course not, but there's a difference in knowing and _knowing_ , to understand that Jensen's body is cold based on what he's been told, rather than to touch and find out for himself. There's a difference between knowing in his head that Jensen's dangerous and witnessing it with his own two eyes, seeing it in his sneer and the slant of his eyebrows, maniacal.

"Relax," Jensen says carefully, and it fails at making Jared do anything of the like. "I only bite when you tell me to."

Jared swallows, nods and runs the tips of his fingers down Jensen's cheek, letting himself get used to the feeling of Jensen's body under his hand. Jensen's eyes flutter shut, mouth parting and as Jensen moves into his space, Jared's mind screams vampire, vampire, _vampire_. He tries to shake the thought away, to lose it in the touch of Jensen's lips against his, opening him wide, but it only serves as another reminder of the obvious. But then Jensen's hand is wrapping around his wrist and his tongue is sliding over the seam of Jared's lips and Jared's brain can't quite make the connection any more, too preoccupied with Jensen.

Jensen's mouth tastes like nothing and everything, heavy with the flavor of copper and Jared feels a shout build in the back of his throat, eating away at him until he releases it as a groan. Jensen's free hand slides up the blades of his shoulders in response, sliding up the curve of Jared's nape and cupping it with his hand, curling his fingers in Jared's hair and pulling him down deeper, until Jared's gripping Jensen's hips hard.

Jensen's tongue is long and precise as it runs across the span of Jared's teeth, as it coils around Jared's own, as Jensen pulls back to bite at Jared's lip and then replaces his teeth with his tongue, sinking back into Jared's mouth. It's an intoxicating blend and Jared finds himself falling, falling into the curve of Jensen's lips and the smooth, cool skin under his palms. Falling far too fast and Jared feels savage, like a high-strung junkie in need of more and more, and nothing's even happened yet and this is so _dangerous_ , fuck. So, so dangerous.

 _Rule number two: Don't you ever lose control of the situation. Never give them an upper hand or you're dead._

Thankfully, Jensen picks that moment to pull away from Jared, Jared's hands and body protesting, trying to reel him back in unsuccessfully. Jensen laughs, more of a huff than anything else, and he shakes his head. "Think you came around for more than some face action, man." Jensen himself is already moving to sit down on the bed, legs spread once more and entirely too welcoming to Jared's eyes.

Jared's a little breathless as he nods, nostrils flaring as he takes in deep gulps of air. He shouldn't be taking the time to even do that; he should be getting the hell out of here immediately, run and never look back and forget this place and Jensen and everything else associated with this night. He can choose to leave and see another morning, or he can stay and he can die. That's really what it will come down to, Jared knows; he's doubtful that he'd be able to resist Jensen once other things begin.

Jared walks to the bed and sits down next to Jensen on the bed.

"You want to take your shirt off?" Jensen murmurs, lips suddenly too close to Jared's ear, and Jared complies easily, doesn't let himself think past _yes yes yes_. He removes his jacket first, drops it on the floor in a heap and takes it in for a moment, his one chance at survival hidden in its pockets, and then he looks over at Jensen, at the tight, patient look spread out over his face, and then he tugs his shirt off without another glance to the growing heap of clothes on the floor.

Without thinking, Jared climbs up further on the bed and lies down, head sinking into the pillows as he watches Jensen, watches the way the guy drinks him in, eyes glazing over every inch of exposed skin. His heart is beating too fast, and he gets the sick wonder if maybe Jensen can hear it, if he can hear the blood racing through his veins. By the look on Jensen's face--careful, too devoid of emotion to be natural, something Jared's learned to perfect over the past year--Jared's willing to bet he can. He wonders if maybe, just maybe, Jensen's looking for the spot he wants to sink his teeth into first.

"Come on," Jared says, suddenly impatient. The longer it takes Jensen to begin, the more anxious Jared's going to become. Jared tries to search Jensen's eyes for a hint of what he's thinking, but the darkness masks them too well to read.

Finally, Jensen nods and moves off the bed, gets on the floor on his knees and reaches under the bed. Jared listens as the heavy scrape of a box burns in his ears, sliding rough against the old wooden floors, and then it stops. There's the final sound of Jensen popping the lock off of it and tossing it to the floor, and silence wins again. It takes Jared a minute to realize he's panting heavy, hard breaths that he can't seem to stop. Jensen, meanwhile, doesn't make another noise as he stands, and Jared's hands burn at the object in his hands, at the reflection of the candle's flame on the knife's blade.

Jensen's slow and deliberate getting back on the bed, and he crawls on his knees to Jared, the knife dropping to the mattress as he swings himself over Jared to straddle his waist. He looks so serene like this, so casual, and if Jared hadn't learned how to read people, he'd be able to miss the anticipation bubbling just under the surface, finally giving Jensen away.

"Do you trust me?" Jensen asks as he slides one hand down the span of Jared's torso. His voice is a hard whisper, grainy and thick and Jared feels himself swell slightly at the sound.

 _No,_ Jared thinks, and then he nods. It earns him a smirk from Jensen, a quiet acknowledgement that he gets it, and then he reaches for the knife and raises it, fingers clutched around the handle loosely. The blade glints as he lowers it down, and Jared presses his eyes shut at the cool, thin press of it to the skin below his collarbone. He's not even aware that he's been holding his breath until Jensen slides the knife across his flesh, the sharpness cutting through his skin and shocking him with pain, and he chokes out all the air he was keeping in his lungs.

It burns. The tiniest sliver of cut and Jared's biting his cheek to keep from screaming, Jensen's handling of the blade slow and sure, splitting him open. Barely a gash and Jared has his fists twisted in the blankets, knuckles turning white, face screwed up as Jensen sets the knife back on the bed. Jared can smell the blood, thick in the air and he's gone insane with the anticipation of what comes next, what Jensen's going to do.

Jensen's tongue is cool and soft on the wound, the tip narrowed as he licks across the length of it. He hums as he tastes Jared, and Jared groans back, takes his hand and slides it through the short spikes of Jensen's hair, pushing his head down, tongue going flat against the cut. The pressure stings, and it's incredible, the gentle swipe against Jared's skin. Jared feels dizzy, his senses heightened--he can feel the millimeter of distance between his body and Jensen's nose, can feel the faint scrape of Jensen's hair against his chin.

Jensen pulls off and raises again, grabs the knife once more. There's blood on his lips, _Jared's_ blood, and he sucks it off slowly, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth. Jared can feel himself bulging at the seam of his pants, thick bulge right under Jensen, and he takes a breath, takes in the look of Jensen, with his eyes blown wide and his lips darker red than Jared's ever seen, and then Jensen slices him open again.

It's on his stomach this time, a careful drag of the blade that lasts longer this time, sinks in deeper, Jensen's hand right beside it, putting pressure on it, and it _burns_. Jared looks down at it and sees the crimson red of blood trickling out, and bile creeps up the back of his throat and he pushes it back down quickly.

Jensen shimmies down Jared's body until he's almost lying between Jared's legs, and then he leans down and sets his lips to Jared's stomach. He's mouthing over the blood with a frantic pace, his hand pressed to the edge of the cut, thumb smearing the blood over the still clean skin. His tongue follows close behind, mopping up the mess and leaving it shiny with spit and free of red.

Jensen moves back to the actual cut and latches his lips to it, sucking hard against it, and Jared sees stars, feels his cock grow that much harder. He gasps, chokes out a stuttered _fuck_ , and Jensen hums back, digs the heel of his hand to the base of Jared's dick and pushes down, runs it over the length of Jared.

"Oh, god," Jared manages. He wants to bury his head in the pillow, maybe bury himself into Jensen forever. His head's spinning with the high, to the point that he can barely think, his brain continuously playing _Jensen, Jensen, Jensen_ over and over again. He wants to scream it out, choke it out, shout it until he's shaking with exhaustion.

Jensen's longer this time, tongue slicking over the open cut and taking every last drop he can get. He's sucking on Jared's stomach like he needs it more than anything else, his nose digging into Jared's skin as Jensen moves frantic over the wound again and again, Jared pushing his stomach into Jensen's face. It feels insanely good, the idea that Jensen _needs_ Jared, _needs_ his blood.

Finally, Jensen breaks away from it and tugs off his shirt, tosses it to the floor. He wastes no time getting his hands on Jared's jeans and popping the button, sliding the zipper down, and Jared groans, lifts up his hips compliantly and lets Jensen take them and his underwear off. Jensen moves off the bed then, gets out of his own pants and Jared takes him in, the clean lines of pale skin making his mouth water. Jensen's dick is hard when he climbs back on the bed, matching Jared's.

Jensen straddles Jared once more, cocks lining up, and Jared chokes out a gasp at the easy press of them. He reaches between them and catches them both in hand, lets the warmth of his hand bleed into Jensen's dick as he strokes, the two of them fitting in his hand perfectly. Jensen lets out this wonderful little grunt, nothing like he sounded when he had Jared's blood on his tongue, and it's the best thing Jared can ever recall hearing right now.

Jensen sinks down on Jared, presses their chests together, and then he catches Jared's mouth with his own. Jared can taste his blood on Jensen's tongue, thick and heavy, overwhelming taste of copper coating his mouth in return, and he groans, rubs their dicks faster. Jensen eats at his mouth, teeth biting at Jared's lips, and Jared feels the sharp point of one, a sudden idea invading his thoughts until it's all he can think about.

His hand stalls on their dicks, slowing to a stop and Jensen groans, pushes into Jared's fist. He jerks his head away from Jensen and pants, breathes hard against Jensen's cheek. "Bite me," he gasps out, before he can think of anything else.

Jensen stops thrusting and stills, looks directly at Jared. "What?"

"C'mon, do it," Jared urges. "No knife tricks, just... c'mon. I wanna know what it feels like."

"You're not serious," Jensen says carefully.

"Don't tell me you don't want it," Jared bites out. "Come on, I know you fuckin' want it."

Jensen's lips part in protest, but pause for a quick moment before he speaks. "It doesn't matter what I want."

"Right. It only matters what I want, right? Well, I want you to bite me." Jared licks his lips and takes his free hand to cup the back of Jensen's head. He guides him down towards his throat, and Jensen goes willingly. "C'mon, Jensen. Bite my neck," Jared whispers, and then cries out when he feels sharp pressure sink into his flesh.

It hurts, more than Jared would think, digging into his skin. Red hot searing pain, and Jared presses his eyes shut hard and resumes jacking them off, Jensen moving in his fist as he starts to suck. And that hurts, too, sharp burn as his blood floods Jensen's mouth, the pressure of Jensen's lips on the spot. But then Jensen's making the best noises, loud slurps and groans and he's twisting pleasantly against Jared and it's all worth it, worth the pain and worth the hurt.

It doesn't take long for the feeling to change, before the pain gives away to something else, a sudden high that has Jared's head spinning, his body swimming under Jensen's touch. He's going crazy with it, absolutely psychotic, and he doesn't want it to stop ever. He wants to just lie here and let Jensen continue drinking him, feeding on him.

Jared swipes his hand down their lengths quickly, can feel the pull in his balls and he's so close, so very, very close. Jensen's movements are growing erratic as well, grunts coming louder and louder, and before Jared knows it, Jensen's coming, splashing cool between them. It gives him the added encouragement he needs and he strokes hard and fast, strips his dick until he's shooting hot in his hand, and he groans, drops his hand away and to the side of the bed.

Jensen keeps sucking, though, long pulls of Jared's blood and the high's shifting into something else--Jared feels the tips of his fingers turn cold, and it's nearly impossible to move them now. "Jensen," he chokes out, barely a whisper, dry and shaky, "stop. Please, you've gotta--stop."

But Jensen doesn't hear him. His fingers dig tightly into Jared's shoulders and Jared realizes with sudden clarity that he's going to die in this place. He's going to die and it's Jensen that killed him and he's going to be cold and dead.

Jensen pulls off with a startling smack, recoiling back from Jared quickly and presses the back of his hand to his mouth. Jared looks up at him dazedly and gasps as he takes him in, blood running down his chin and his hand, his body shaking. Gone from his eyes is the green and instead Jared's looking into deep red, narrowed down as Jensen hisses at him.

"Get out," he gasps. Jensen's fingers clench in the blanket and rips it apart, and there's a sudden pressure on Jared's wound. "Get out," Jensen says again. "Put pressure on this, get dressed, and then _get out_."

Jared slowly sits up and runs a shaky hand through his hair. "Jensen, what--I don't... I don't understand."

"Get out," Jensen says again. He gets to his feet and as far away from Jared as possible. "Get out, get out, get _out_!"

It takes Jared a moment to work it out but he nods dully and presses his hand to the piece of blanket on his neck. It takes him even longer to be able to stand, and he's accutely aware of the sharp glare Jensen is giving him. Getting dressed is even more complicated, because everytime he goes to lower his head, he gets unpleasantly dizzy. Still, Jensen doesn't move from his spot, doesn't say a single word to him the entire time it takes Jared to regain his senses.

It's only when Jared's hand is on the door knob that Jensen finally speaks. "Hey."

Jared turns as quickly as he can manage, feeling strangely hopeful for a moment before he sees Jensen's careful posture. His eyes are changing now, the red beginning to fade and the green coming back to them, and Jared's blood is dry all over his chin and stomach.

"Don't come back," Jensen says quietly.

Jared shuts his eyes and nods, presses his hand to the stake still in his pocket. He says, "Yeah, okay," and walks out the door.

 _Rule number three: Don't you ever let them bite your neck._


End file.
